Before & Beyond
by DaeTarien
Summary: Short and Sweet: The Fellowship looses, they fail. Zip. Frodo kicks the bucket. So? What happens after I hear you ask... find out!


Yes, I am back! Okies, lets get down to business...

Disclaimer: Again, still not mine, I have tried, but becuase of legal stuff and Tolkein not being alive; I lost. So nope not mine. But other charatcters in later chapters are! I'll point them out... but it's obvious.

Other things you might need to know: Please bear in mind that I'm going to the furture, a few ages into the furture to be exact, but becuase of magical thingys people stay alive (I'll explain more later).

Summary: Ha! The Fellowship looses. Frodo dies (evil laugh)

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The hobbit fell, encased in the orange hum, in the background drums can be heard and they were getting louder. Slowly he was falling into their grasp.

* * *

Towering over them in metres of shadows lay the Black Gate, and within the stomachs of Aragorn's men, their stomachs churned in fright. This was it 

Aragorn halted for a while and nervously looked upon the Gates before him. He gulped down bile that threatened to spill from his throat, and slowly regained his wits. It wasn't that death scared him, the way that he was going to die… did.

His Elven Mellon, Legolas shifted uneasily on his horse, causing the horse to whicker softly in unease. He watched as Legolas' deep cerulean orbs drifted from the heights of the shadow land to the ground beneath him; and within those few seconds, Legolas seemed to give off more emotion than he had since the beginning of the journey. Ever quiet, ever reserved, never showing his emotions, the Elf always gave Aragorn hope, but the dread and fear washing over the Elf's face made Aragorn's heart sink further.

Twisting in his saddle, he stared forward, reminiscing about how every thing could have possibly become so out of control. His thoughts were pulled from him when Pippin's high voice hiccupped through the silent air.

"Where are they?"

Aragorn didn't turn to the ginger hobbit, but spurred his horse on in determination, not looking back, knowing that Gandalf, Legolas, Éomer, were certainly behind him.

Death, evil and wraith and gloom emanated forth and surround the Ranger, taunting him. Picking up as much as courage as he could, he yelled into the heavy air, "Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!"

His words seemed to echo into the mountains before dissolving into nothingness. Silence hung in the atmosphere, raising the tension. A few horses in the distance flared their nostrils.

After what seemed to be a torturous eternity to the company, the black gates eased open, creaking at the joints. A darkrider on a dark, armor covered horse approached. Slowly. Acidic.

Resisting to give a low pseudo of a bow, the Mouth of Sauron gave a black, toothy grin. "My master, Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome".

Aragorn glared back, giving a mocking look. _'Do your worst, animal. This is not a staring contest'. _Aragorn smirked at his hidden comment, resolved, he kept a stern face.

Taken aback somewhat the Mouth of Sauron flared back; 'is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?'

He half expected the king before him to respond, but when the figure in pure white spoke, the Mouth had to practically stop himself from falling off his horse in shock.

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed. Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return".

The Mouth sneered, and he felt within the satchel on his horse. Grinning to himself in pure amusement, he moved forward a few inches, so his and Aragorn's horses heads were almost touching. He frowned as Aragorn just sat there apparently bored, as the Mouth changed his tactics.

He moved his horse around and hissed as he past the Elf, earning himself a look of absolute hate. If looks could kill, that look would have sent the Mouth 12 feet under. He stopped in front of the Wizard, grinning as he could taste the old fool's anxiety. His black tongue flickered tantalizingly between his crooked teeth.

"Old Greybeard. I have a token I was bidden to show thee". From the Lengths of his cloak, a golden ring was brought out. The Mouth held it up in victory, before turning to Aragorn.

"Oh, Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a king than a broken Elvish blade." As the final words left his mouth, hysteria filled the air, as the rest of Aragorn's army shifted back. The Mouth let out manic laugh, as the orcish army spilled forward drowning out the hobbit's fearful calls 'Frodo'.

"No".

The Mouth turned to see Aragorn stare on in disbelief as the swarm of mangled body parts hit him first and foremost, driving him into battle mode.

Oh yes. The Fellowship, had indeed failed.

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Okay, so consider here, that this was truely a plot bunny... should I carry on? Honestly. I need the critisim. So click the review button! 


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